Page 42 of Mortis

“Oh, for the love of . . .” Before I could finish the sentence, they were around his ankles. “Oh my god!”

I slapped both hands over my eyes. But it was too late. I’d already caught another entirely unnecessary glimpse of the prick swinging between his legs like a pendulum.

Apparently once wasn’t enough for the universe.

I staggered backwards, completely forgetting about the stack of boxes behind me. My heel caught one, and the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back. The air rushed from my lungs as I hit the carpet, the back of my head clipping another box on the way down.

“Ow.”

A heavy weight suddenly settled over me. When I opened my eyes, Kael was leaning above me, his knees planted either side of my hips.

“Teddy,” he rumbled. “Are you hurt?”

One huge hand cradled the back of my head to stop it pressing against the floor. The other rested lightly on my chest, as though checking my heartbeat. I looked up at his face. Then, despite every sensible instinct screaming at me not to, my gaze drifted down.

His entire naked body filled my vision, and my gaze finally stopped at the sight of his cock trapped between our stomachs. The slit was right there, staring at me.

Judging me.

“You’re naked,” I breathed, unable to drag my eyes away.

Shitting hell.

Was it possible to be hypnotised by another man’s dick?

Dicknotised?

“You asked me to change.”

His cock twitched against my stomach. That finally snapped me out of whatever bizarre trance I’d fallen into, and I shoved at his shoulders. It didn’t actually move him, but it got the message across. Kael immediately climbed off and knelt beside me. I sat up, concentrating very, very hard on maintaining eye contact.

“I didn’t mean you should change here!” I snapped.

I tore open the packet of scrubs and shoved the pale blue bundle into his hands.

“Put these on.” I pointed emphatically at the clothes and then at his dick. “Before Arlo walks in and loses an eye.”

Kael tilted his head. “Do you not like my cock, Teddy?”

I tipped my head back and groaned. At this point my face was hot enough to fry an egg.

“Kael,” I whined. “Please. Just get dressed.”

He nodded without argument and pulled on the scrubs. But I didn’t miss the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The cheeky bastard.

When we were finally dressed in appropriate attire—I’d changed in the bathroom like any sane human being would—it was time to start work.

I wheeled the embalming table over to the refrigeration units while Kael lifted Mr Cartwright’s body out with ease, lowering him gently onto the metal surface. Together we rolled him back across the room, and I began the embalming process.

Kael watched in silence, curiosity shining in his maroon eyes above the surgical mask. I could feel his gaze following every movement as I fitted eye caps beneath Mr Cartwright’s eyelids, before sealing them shut with adhesive. Goosebumps prickled across my arms when he drifted nearer to watch me suture the man’s mouth closed.

Every now and then I’d ask him for an instrument, and he almost always handed me the wrong one. But after a bit of pointing and increasingly detailed descriptions, he usually found the right tool in the end.

With Mr Cartwright’s facial features set, I moved on to the arterial injection. Once I’d raised the vessels, I inserted cannulas into the carotid artery and jugular vein in his neck, then another into the femoral vessels in his thigh. As the embalming fluid entered through the arteries, the blood gradually drained through the veins.

Kael leaned forward, inhaling deeply, clearly recognising the scent from Dorothy Robinson’s body.